A spooky sensation of wanting something desperately but not knowing what that something was pervaded the consciousness of her mind so thoroughly that it effected her physically. She seemed to be hollow from her waist to her crotch, and her organs protested by contracting in twitching spasms that made her belly palpitate. In all, it was very disturbing.
Going to the kitchen, she cleaned up the table, put the dishes in the sink, then had a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice. After cleaning up the room, she went into the dining area of the Living room and stood before the large bookcase, searching for the medical advisor that might give a clue to her symptoms.
She located the book she was looking for and was reaching for it when the door bell rang. When she went to answer it, she was both surprised and pleased to see Brenda Mills.
“Good morning, Jo. Is your dad…?” Brenda stopped halfway through the door when she saw the girl's face. “Why, honey! You've been crying! What's the matter?”
“Oh, nothing.” Jo shut the door, and they went in to sit down.
“Dad's not here. He and Peggy took off some place a while ago, but I don't know where they went.”
“Oh. I just stopped by to tell him I wouldn't be able to make it for lunch.” Brenda looked at the beautiful girl searchingly. “Are you sure nothing is wrong, dear? We're friends, you know. You can tell me.”
“I know.” Jo considered the ravishing brunette something akin to an older sister. When her mother had taken off on her many tantrums, the girls ran to Brenda. The woman had talked to them, consoled them, and taken them to dinner and the movies in order to make things easier. But, as close as they were, she couldn't divulge her troubles. “It's nothing, really. Should I tell dad that you're coming back later?”
“Yes, about four. Now 'fess up and tell Aunt Brenda what all the tears were for. It's good to talk things out.”
The girl watched Brenda cross her legs and light a cigarette. Brenda was wearing a short tight skirt that hiked up to her hips when she sat, and a lace-front blouse through which her immense breasts and dark nipples could be easily distinguished. Jo hoped that she would be that gorgeous when she was that old.
“Honest, Brenda, there's nothing to say. It's all over, now. If it was important I'd tell you.”
Smiling warmly, the brunette opened the top buttons of her blouse and casually rubbed a spongy tit. “Anything that makes you cry is important. Let's have it. Maybe I can help.”
While the girl thought it over, Brenda let her eyes travel over the girl, her breath quickening as she imagined the swells, hollows and curves hidden under the quilted robe. All she could see were the plump mounds pushing out from Jo's chest and the slim tapered legs that were as good as her own. Her smile became softer as she began leisurely tweaking her nipple, pleased at the result-and twittering in her pussy.
Jo had reached a decision, even though the very thought of speaking of it choked her up again. If anyone could tell her what was going on, Brenda could, and she trusted her friend to keep it a secret. Embarrassingly, her eyes filled and spilled over even before she could begin, then, in a choking halting voice, she told the woman everything that had happened, along with her reactions, doubts and fears.
When she finished, Brenda left her sitting there crying softly while she went to the kitchen for a stiff drink, and to wipe her twat with a paper towel. She wasn't wearing panties, and what the girl had told her made her cunt leak mucous into her crevice. She carried her drink back and sat on the arm of Jo's chair.
“Honey, you're making a mountain out of nothing. Everything you've told me is perfectly natural. Perhaps not between a father and his daughter, but natural just the same. I've done everything you mentioned and more, and you can see I'm still healthy and happy. Your only trouble was not knowing what to expect.”
The girl craned her neck to look up at Brenda, eyes bulging with amazement. “Honest? There's nothing wrong with what I did?”
“Of course not. Once you understand what it's all about, you'll find out that it's a helluva lot of fun.” There was a smoldering gleam in Brenda's eyes as she checked her watch for the time. “Do you have any idea where your dad went?”
“Huh uh. I heard the phone ring, then they left a little bit after.”
“Probably went to the office, then. That means he'll be tied up for at least a couple of hours.” Brenda lifted the glass and gulped down half the contents, then stood up. “Why don't we go to your room, dear. I think I can make a few things clearer to you so you won't be so upset.”
That was what Jo had been waiting for! Someone to explain to her and dispel the fretful anxieties! “Gosh, yes! I haven't made my bed, but I'll do it real fast!”
“Don't bother,” Brenda said, following the girl. “Right now, other things are more important.
The brunette closed the door behind them, then patted the girl's cheek. “It's a trifle warm in here. Take off that robe and get comfortable.”
Jo hesitated only a split second. Brenda was a friend and a woman, and there was no reason to be shamed in front of her. She stripped off her robe in record time and tossed it on the foot of the bed, then bent over to straighten the covers so they could sit down.
A hiss of air blew through Brenda's lips when she saw the girl's statuesque body, and her eyes became flaming coals of intensity. While before she had been stunned by Jo's statement of Dan's actions, she was now perplexed over why he hadn't gone all the way and given the curvaceous young nymph a taste of serious vaginal fucking. Any real male she had ever met, and a lot of women too, would have given almost anything for a sample of that magnificent vision of virginal purity.
“Now we can sit down,” Jo said excitedly, totally at ease in her nakedness before her friend and confessor. “C'mon, Brenda. I'm really anxious to talk about this stuff.”
“Just a minute, dear,” Brenda said throatily. “You don't mind if I get comfortable too, do you?”
“Oh, heck, no. Go right ahead.”
Jo looked out the window to make sure her dad's car hadn't come back, and when she turned around again, her jaw dropped. The brunette had kicked off her shoes, shed her blouse, and was fumbling with the button and zipper that held her skirt up. She had never seen a grown woman's tits, and was intrigued by the fact that they were no larger than her own.
“These damn skirts are only good for one thing,” Brenda muttered testily as she struggled to get it off. “The guys can get to it a helluva lot faster.”
“Get to what?”
The woman's head snapped up and she looked at the girl with a blank stare, as if she hadn't heard right. Then the corners of her mouth turned up and she smiled merrily. “I forgot. Never mind. We'll get to it in a minute.”
Jo gulped and licked her lips nervously when Brenda let her skirt drop and stepped out of it. The brunette was wearing only a lacy black garter belt around her waist, with long straps that hooked onto the tops of her stockings. The fact that she wore no panties escaped the girl as she stared shamelessly at the ebony patch of pubic curls and the thick pussy lips that jutted out from the dark thicket.
“Criminy!” the girl gasped. “You're… awfully pretty!”
“Thank you. I might say the same for you.” Brenda walked over to stand directly in front of the girl, posed with her feet apart, then ran her splayed hands down over her tits, her stomach and abdomen, then her pelvis, twining her fingers into the sable bush. “You look as though you'd never seen a naked woman before, Jo. Don't be shocked. You have all the equipment I do.”
“Yeah,” Jo squeaked, “I know.”
An intangible feeling of want bloomed in Jo's pelvic area, a sense of urgent need for something that she couldn't define, much the same as she had felt after the episode with her dad. Her eyes were glued to Brenda's fingers as the woman sensuously fondled the pouting lips and coral slash of her cunny.
“Every woman has one of these, darling, but only a few of them know how to use it. Do you know what it's called?”
“N… n… not really,” the girl stammered, afraid to speak some of the coarse terms she'd heard in the girl's locker room.
“It's a cunt, or a pussy, or a twat, or a snatch. It has a lot of names, but they all mean the same thing. Guys, most of them anyway, want a cunt more than anything else in the world. A clean educated pussy can get you anything you want, if you know how to use it. Would you like me to show you?”
Jo was too flabbergasted to do anything but nod silent assent. This wasn't at all what she expected. She'd thought they would talk, girl to girl, and that Brenda would help her understand what her dad had done to her, and
